Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Poopy Panty Lament Part 2

Arrrgh! God, she has done it again.

(in my whiniest voice) She went for so long without pooping in her panties. I almost dared to hope that we were past this childhood hurdle. But then... today happened. (sigh)

That will. That stinkin' iron will. That will that I hope will one day make her a strong voice for You. That will that won't be swayed by her peers, or the media, or what "sounds right." That will that says, "I will do what I will do." That will that is somehow, in some way, a reflection of Your nature. (Be it warped and tainted by sin.)

That will is pooping in her panties again!

I am tired. I don't want to deal with this again. I just don't want to. I just don't. Can't you think of more valuable ways for me to be spending my time? Can't you come up with some better way to test my faith in You? Something more comfortable and convenient? Something that smells nicer? Couldn't You? Won't You? PLEASE?

I have not lost my temper yet, thank you for that. I am coming to You at the first sign of trouble, thank you for that too. But God, I just want to flee to Tarshish! I know You are compassionate and loving. I know this is what you have called me to do today. But I want out of this giant fish I'm riding in. It smells like... well... take a whiff. You say that you are my Good Shepherd and that anywhere you lead me is a green pasture, full of the stuff I need to make my spiritual life grow and flourish. This "green pasture" looks pretty questionable to me. I like that last pasture we were in much better. You know, the one with clean panties and the happy children. The one that looked like a travel poster for Tarshish. This here is a big, stinky, fish-in-panties taking me to Ninevah.

God of compassion and grace. God of strength and provision. My Shepherd. These poopy panties are my green pasture because You have led me here. I have to trust that. Help me to trust that. Help me to see your boundaries for my life. Help me to stay here in this pasture and not jump the fence and run for Tarshish. Let me see my little Ninevite as a fellow sheep of Your pasture.

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